


Winner Takes the Bard

by TheRealDanniX



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Changing POV, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Oblivious Jaskier | Dandelion, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Pre-OT3, Pre-Slash, Slow Burn, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:08:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23314411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRealDanniX/pseuds/TheRealDanniX
Summary: Prompt: After the Dragon Hunt, Yen and Jaskier travel together for a while and she falls for him. Meanwhile, Geralt realizes that he loves Jaskier finds the bard and apologizes. Jaskier is obliviously pinning after both of them unaware that they love him.Excerpt:“You want him,” Geralt says quietly. Yennefer tenses and glares at him, chaos sparking in her eyes. “Do not lie to me.”“And what of it?” She raises her eyebrows defiantly, reaching for her wine. “You threw him away. Why should you care?” As usual, Yen knew exactly where to aim her blows to offset the Witcher. Geralt looks away growling. “Oh, I see. You came to claim him as your own. You want him too.” Yellow meets violet.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 22
Kudos: 575





	1. The Groundwork

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry. I know that Yen and Geralt are a bit OOC, and this is mostly crack, but I hope y’all enjoy it anyways.   
> Let me know in the comments!
> 
> Should update fairly quickly, what with no being able to leave the house and all.

Geralt had found and apologized to the bard a year after the dragon hunt. Jaskier had been fairly receptive and had only yelled at him for a few minutes before wrapping him in a hug and declaring him an idiot. None of that had been particularly surprising. The surprising part was following the bard to his room at the inn and finding Yennefer of Vengerberg waiting for them. She was resting on one of the beds in a loose lavender dress that flowed around making her look something like a cloud. Her violet eyes scanned the Witcher in obvious displeasure. “Geralt of Rivia,” she hissed.

Jaskier frowned at her. “Yen, behave. He apologized,” Jaskier said lightly.

“And you forgave him?” She crossed her eyes. Something about the way she was watching Geralt made him uneasy.

“Months ago, but that is neither here nor there. The point, dear mage, is that he actually said the words ‘I’ and ‘am’ and ‘sorry’ in that order directed to me.” Jaskier plopped down on the bed beside Yennefer, draping his body across her lap absently.

“I wouldn’t have thought he even knew the words.” Yennefer maintained eye contact with Geralt as she carded her hands through the bard’s brown locks. Geralt frowned. “Will you be traveling with us, then?” Jaskier raised an eyebrow as he seemed to register her tone.

“He doesn’t have to,” the bard sighed. Cornflower blue met bright violet. “I just thought it would be nice to spend the evening together and go from there.” His eyes were wide and pleading up at the mage. She sighed back and looked away, obviously the desired result. Jaskier surged up, wrapping his arms around her neck. “It’s settled then. I’ll see you both in the tavern.” He rolled off the bed, seized up his lute and trotted from the room, smiling broadly. When the door closed, Yennefer actively scowled at Geralt.

“Yennefer,” he growled in way of greeting.

She rose from the bed, glaring openly up at him. “Witcher, let me warn you. I have taken quite a shine to the bard and if you break him again, I will punish you in ways that you cannot even imagine.”

“I have no intention of breaking him,” he growled back.

“Then what are your intentions?” The air between them sparked. “Actually, I don’t believe what you want matters. The bard wants you here, so I will tolerate you. Just know that you will not be getting anywhere near his _heart_ again.” Her voice was venom. A flick of her wrist and her dress shimmered into a low-cut black dress that fit tightly around her curves. She stalked past the Witcher heading for the tavern. He follows her, unsure of what the fuck was happening. They settled in the tavern where Jaskier is already dancing around singing and smiling. Geralt can’t take his eyes off the bard, so very in his element, nearly glowing with energy. Something twists in his stomach as Jaskier winks at their table and launches into “Toss a Coin”. He tears his eyes away to gulp down some ale and notices Yen. Her eyes are fixed on the Bard, following him as he moves. She’s smiling gently at him, seemingly unaware of anything else. Geralt takes a deep breath and a sharp scent hits him, like spice coming in waves off the mage. He nearly chokes on his ale.

“You want him,” Geralt says quietly. Yennefer tenses and glares at him, chaos sparking in her eyes. “Do not lie to me.”

“And what of it?” She raises her eyebrows defiantly, reaching for her wine. “You threw him away. Why should you care?” As usual, Yen knew exactly where to aim her blows to offset the Witcher. Geralt looks away growling. “Oh, I see. You came to claim him as your own. You want him too.” Yellow meets violet. Before either can speak again, Jaskier is jamming himself into the seat next to Yennefer, taking her wine as his own.

“I see you two are starting to get along again, then.” It’s not a question, but the way he twists his voice, Jaskier makes it sound like one. “If you decide to play around of hide the sausage, you will both need your own room because I paid for mine.” Jaskier’s whole body is leaned against Yennefer, who chuckles at him.

“That won’t be happening,” Geralt growls.

Jaskier meets his eyes and tilts his head slightly making him look even more fucking adorable than before. “Too soon?”

“No, bard, the great brute and I will not be playing that particular game ever again.” Yennefer pointedly brushes some hair away from Jaskier’s face.

“Well, no offense to either of you, but that is probably for the best. From a purely observational standpoint, neither of you were good for the other.” Jaskier takes a roll from Geralt’s plate and munches on it. “Certainly, no scarier couple, but honestly the damage you did to each was not worth the aesthetic. I cannot count how many times I had to drag Geralt to a healer after one of your flings because he couldn’t be bothered to take care of himself before throwing himself into the maw of some beast or another.” Jaskier took another gulp of wine washing down the dry bread. “So, will we be traveling together or parting ways after tonight? I know Yen and I were planning on heading north for a while, but I haven’t heard your plans, dear Witcher.” He turned his bright blue eyes to Geralt.

“If you will allow me, I think it would be good to be with friends,” Geralt said. He pointedly did not look at Yennefer. Jaskier, however, turned his eyes to the mage and gripped her arm.

Yennefer sighed. “As long as the Bard is alright with it, you may come. But I warn you, I will not stop in every town with a contract. I do have a destination and I will not let you keep me from it,” she growled.

That was how they had ended up traveling across the continent, Yennefer guiding them from town to town gathering ingredients for something, Jaskier playing at every tavern, and Geralt taking a contract or two along the way. When Jaskier was around the three of them got on well, if a bit tense. When the bard was otherwise occupied, however, the Mage and the Witcher were nearly always at odds, growling at each other and fighting for the other man’s affection. At first, they use their words, but, after two months of travel, Geralt starts giving Jaskier gifts. Each gift from Geralt is followed by a slightly bigger/prettier/more expensive gift from Yennefer. Every time Jaskier seems ecstatic, showering the giver in praise and wrapping them in tight hugs.

* * *

After this goes on for another month though, Jaskier is starting to become confused. He had expected that after the apology things with Geralt and Yen would go back to how they were before (if a more amicable between the bard and the mage). This dynamic of gift-giving, and affections was doing wonders for his mental status, but it was odd. He had never thought of either of them as particularly affectionate people. He knew that Geralt used to only show his affection in limited doses and mostly through tolerance. Even when it had only been him and Yen, they had never had the dynamic that she seemed to have now. When they arrive in the next town, Jaskier decides enough is enough. Once they have a room, Jaskier forces the other two to sit down on one of the beds. They both sit, though they seem horribly uncomfortable with each other, the tension rolling off them in waves.

“All right,” Jaskier says. “I do not know what exactly is going on with you two, but this has to stop.” Their faces are blank when Jaskier turns to them. “I appreciate the gifts and the tolerance both of you have with my displays of affection, but the tension is killing me. Whatever was between you has clearly not been resolved and it seems to be getting worse the longer we travel together. So, either you both tell me what is going on so that someone can try to clear the air or work it out for yourselves. I am going for a walk, when I get back, I expect an answer or, at the very least, something like a normal Witcher and a normal Mage instead of these immensely tense versions of yourselves that you have become.” Jaskier set his lute by the door and went to leave. “Oh, and if either of you follows me, I will simply walk away from both of you.” With that, he closed the door and headed for the market. He had no intention of returning anytime soon. He could only hope that when he returned, the inn was still standing.

* * *

Geralt and Yennefer stared at the closed door, neither one sure exactly how to proceed. The mage was the first to break the silence. “He doesn’t know,” she muttered. She rose from the bed and began pacing. “That wonderful idiot doesn’t know. He sings of love and pining and heartbreak and he hasn’t realized that there are two people fighting for his affections.”

Geralt snorted. “Are you surprised?” The Witcher folded his arms watching her walk across the floor, her traveling cloak trailing her dramatically.

Finally, Yennefer looks at him. “Honestly?” she asked. Geralt nods. “Not particularly. I don’t think he even understands that we aren’t simply humoring him. I am not surprised. I am frustrated.” She resumed her pacing. “I don’t mean to say that I am going to tell him. It would be entirely unfair to force him to choose.” Geralt hummed but didn’t say anything else. A few moments later, the mage froze and looked back at the Witcher with wide eyes. “We don’t have to make him choose.” Her voice was little more than a breath.

Geralt frowned. “Explain.”

“We both love the bard,” she started. Geralt opened his mouth to protest to word, but she held up her hand stopping him. “Don’t deny it. You may be an emotionally constipated twit, but even you cannot deny that you care for him deeply enough to call love.”

“Hmm.” He folded his arms across his chest.

“If we both love the bard, and he cares for both of use, then why would we make him choose? He has more emotion in his little finger than either of us have in our entire bodies. Certainly, there is enough sunshine to go around.” Yennefer meets his eyes pointedly, directing a smile towards him for the first time since the dragon hunt. “And besides, even if he were to choose, I don’t believe I could leave him at this point. I’m far too attached.” She tore her eyes away. “To both of you.”

“As am I,” Geralt sighs finally.

“Good. Then when our bard returns, we shall tell him the truth.” Yennefer smiled again. “Or, I suppose, I’ll do the lion’s share of the talking. But it will be the truth.” Geralt nodded tightly. The truth could be hard.

They waited for Jaskier to return, but, when the sunset and there was no sign of him, they began to worry. Geralt went to look for him, leaving Yennefer to wait at the inn in case he came back. Geralt tried to scan for his scent wandering through the streets until he caught the hint of citrus, honey, and rosin. He followed the scent as it trailed through the town and out of the town. The trail ended in a field just outside the town, somewhere that Jaskier would have liked to sit and compose. He almost relaxed, thinking the bard had simply fallen asleep, but then another scent joined the cocktail. A thick, copper scent. Blood. The Witcher scanned the field, looking for signs of a fight. The field tilted down towards a stream and not too far from the edge, the flowers were tinged red. Caught on a rock just outside the stream was Jaskier’s pale blue doublet stained with red. Someone had their bard.


	2. Beloved Visions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW-standard kidnapping stuff, talk of blood and wounds

Jaskier knew he was hallucinating. He knew that the purple eyes staring at him in concern weren’t real. He knew the flashes of white hair and the sounds of swords were all in his head. The thing he wasn’t sure about was what was causing the visions. If it was the blood loss or whatever they had shoved down his throat before throwing him into the iron cage. His cage was suspended far enough from the ground that he couldn’t see it in the darkness of whatever tower this was. His body shook in pain as he tried to fight against the rope binding him. Every so often he would hear a voice that could be Yen’s whisper to save his strength or a concerned grunt that could be Geralt’s. Each time, it made the pain worse. He had told them not to follow. He had told them to wait. Because of that, he had been unprepared for the ambush. He could still feel the blade stinging as it stabbed into his side.

Jaskier wasn’t sure how much time passed before a man appeared in his cage. He was older and shorter than the Bard, with faded blue eyes that looked at him as a prize. Somewhere off to the side, a vision of Geralt growled at the man’s back, barring his teeth. Yen’s voice was behind Jaskier, whispering not to trust. The man leaned over Jaskier with a dark fascination twisting his face. Jaskier tried to glare up at him, unable to move much, thanks to the tight ropes around his wrists and ankles. “You must be his bard,” the old man said finally.

“In the flesh,” Jaskier tried to hiss. It came out more like a muddled growl.

The man smirked. “Such bravado for such a small, powerless creature,” he chuckled. “Do you know who I am?” He leaned close to Jaskier face. Jaskier spit at him. The man cursed and a blast of air shoved the bard back against to cage. Hard. Jaskier’s vision went black for a moment. When it returned the man was snarling at him. Jaskier forced himself to smirk through to pain, even as he felt the wound on his side bleeding again. The air felt charged as the man glared at him.

 _“He’s a mage,”_ Yen’s voice whispered in his ear.

“You should be more considerate,” the mage hissed. “I could just kill you. It would still work as bait for your Witcher.” He paused. “Have you heard him yet? Have you heard your beloved’s voice taunting you?” Jaskier felt his eyes go wide. “If you survive, consider it a blessing. You’ll have your Witcher with you long after I dissect him.” Then the mage was gone. Jaskier slumped against the cage, as much as he could in his bindings.

 _“We will find you,”_ Geralt’s voice growled. A phantom hand rested on his shoulder, big and callused. Another hand ran through his hair, thin and gentle.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Jaskier found himself whispering.

* * *

Yennefer put a tracking spell on Jaskier’s bloody doublet. Then she portaled them to the stronghold where it led. The Witcher seemed even more tense as they emerged. “You’re sure he’s here?” Geralt hissed, casting an eye over his shoulder.

“Yes,” Yennefer snapped. “I know what I’m doing.” She crossed her arms, but the Witcher didn’t look at her. “Is there a problem with here?”

“Smells like magic.”

Yennefer rolled her eyes. “Of course, it does. How else would they have gotten him here so quickly? The question is who they were targeting. If they were after him for digging in the wrong pantry, or one of us for whatever we may or may not have done.”

“Where is here?”

Yennefer hesitated, eying the Witcher carefully. “Blaviken,” she said finally. Geralt scowled.

“Stregobor,” he growled. He tightened his grip on his sword (the silver one, Yen noticed).

“What did you do to piss him off this time?” Yennefer folded her arms.

“I turned down a job from him before I found you two again.” Geralt grimaced and started forward.

“How specific,” she sighed. Then she summoned up a blast of chaos and blew the doors open. “I suppose I’ll ask our bard when we get him.”

* * *

Jaskier could hear fighting. Really fighting that seemed to shake the whole room his cage was suspended him. An image of Yen smirked at him from the corner. _“Found you, Songbird,”_ she said. That was real too. Whatever the mage had done, the images of the Geralt and Yen were not hallucinations. Unfortunately, he had no idea what they actually were besides images of his beloved, as the mage had said. When he got out of this, he would have to leave that part out when asking Yen. They barely tolerated him, and he felt certain they would leave him if they found out how much he truly cared for them. The room shook again, and he could hear yelling. He tried to push himself upright, but the wound at his side throbbed. Several feet below him, a door crashed open.

“Jaskier!” Never had the gravelly voice of the Witcher given him such joy. “Jaskier!”

“Look up, dear Witcher,” Jaskier managed. Moments later, the cage was being lowered to the ground. It was too dark to see clearly, but he could make out the yellow eyes watching him. By the time he was on the ground, Yennefer had joined them, and she simply blasted the cage door off. It had been a long time since he had seen either of them look so angry. Geralt removed the ropes while Yennefer examined the wound on his side. None of them spoke, but Jaskier was okay with that. It was his fault they were here, and he didn’t think he could handle a lecture from both of them.

“Can you walk?” Geralt asked, breaking the tense silence of the stone room. Jaskier nodded and tried to get to his feet. His vision went to black before he could do much more than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all for the wonderful comments and kudos on the first chapter.
> 
> If you like how it's going so far, let me know.   
> Y'all have no idea how much motivation it gives me to see y'all reactions.


	3. The Truth of the Matter

Stregobor was dead. Geralt had heard Yennefer curse him into oblivion before the old mage could even register who was before him. He hadn’t seen the result and didn’t care to. He was far more concerned with their bard. Jaskier had passed out too quickly and Geralt had barely managed to catch him before he fell back to the floor. Yennefer opened a portal and took them back to the inn where Jaskier’s lute and their horses were waiting. Geralt laid him gently on one of the beds and then he and Yennefer went to work patching the younger man up. His wrists were bloody from the ropes. And there was a deep ragged cut in the younger man’s side. Geralt watched Yen work her magic, wishing he could do more than hold Jaskier. Neither of them spoke, waiting for blue eyes to flutter open. Yennefer paced the room, sometimes muttering to herself. Geralt just sat beside the bard, holding his hand in a way he never had. It was a lifeline, tethering him to the real world, keeping him from raging against someone already dead. The sun was starting to rise, but neither Mage nor Witcher could bring themselves to rest. A soft moan halted Yennefer’s pacing, and she rushed to the bedside of their bard. Geralt released his hand and watched as the young man fought to open his eyes. They closed again almost instantly.

“Jaskier, open your eyes,” Yennefer demanded. The bard obeyed, blinking several times before his clear blue eyes were focused on the mage.

“Nice to see you,” Jaskier muttered with none of his usual bravado. His eyes flickered over to where Geralt was seated. “Both of you.” He pushed himself up, bracing against the head of the bed. “I don’t suppose I could get some water.”

Geralt was the first to move, snatching a pitcher of water from the table and pouring some into a cup. He sat down and held the cup to the bard’s lips. “Here,” he said, as gently as possible. Jaskier gulped the water down, sighing in relief as when the cup was empty. Geralt set it aside.

“How are you feeling, Bard?” Yennefer asked. She sat on Jaskier’s bed, next to his feet.

“Confused,” he admitted. “And sore.” One of his hands absently pressed where the wound on his side was bandaged (mostly healed, but there’s only so much one mage can do after blasting another into dust).

“Do you remember what happened?” the Witcher asked. His voice was a growl despite his best efforts.

“For the most part.” Jaskier nodded. “I was composing in a beautiful field just outside of town. I mean, honestly, it was perfect. I wish I had brought my lute, but, ah, I suppose that would have ended up worse for the sexy girl.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt grunted.

“Right sorry. I was composing and I wasn’t really paying attention to see if there were other people around me. There was a sword at my throat before I knew it. I tried to get away, but, uh, well, you can see how that went.” He gestured to his side. “At least it wasn’t actually my neck. That mage must have been there because the next thing I knew I was being shoved through a portal to that awful room with the cage. They shoved a very nasty tasting potion down my throat and locked me in the cage.” Jaskier shrugged. “Then the mage talked to me, though I have no idea what he was babbling about. I was a bit distracted, what with strange potions and being stabbed.” He winced. “But, uh, then you two were there and, well, I have no idea what happened after that.” He shrugged.

“This potion,” Yen said, “What did it look like?”

“I didn’t get a good look at it,” he mumbled.

“And the mage didn’t say anything about it?” she pressed. Jaskier shook his head.

“What aren’t you saying?” Geralt asked. His yellow eyes burned into the bard.

“Uh, well, see, after they gave me the potion, I, uh passed out for a bit. And when I came back around, er, I was having some, uh, hallucinations.” Jaskier’s voice was incredibly quiet.

Yennefer tensed, leaning away from their bard. “What kind of hallucinations?” She couldn’t keep the concern out of her voice. Jaskier wouldn’t look at her.

“Just, well, you two.” The bard was unusually stiff.

“May I take a look?” She reached out to touch Jaskier’s temple, but he flinched back. “Jaskier, I can’t see if the potion did anything if you don’t let me,” she huffed. His eyes flickered up to meet hers. He sighed and nodded. Yennefer touched his temple and searched for the potion’s effect. When she found what she was looking for, she couldn’t help but smile as she pulled her hand from his temple. Geralt eyed her, frowning.

“Yen,” he started. She held up her hand to silence him. Jaskier looked from the Sorceress to the Witcher.

“Only Stregobor would think that potion to be a punishment,” she muttered.

“Um, Yen,” Jaskier started. “I adore your smile, but, at the moment, it is rather unsettling.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’ll be fine, bard.” She rose from the bed. “That potion’s effect normally lasts a few months, but he seems to have extended the length indefinitely. He probably thought it would be a torture if he got his way.”

“Yen,” Geralt growled.

“Oh, hush. The potion allows the person who takes it to see their beloved when they are separate. It’s not a bad thing,” Yennefer hissed. Jaskier paled, looking up at them with wide eyes.

“I-uh,” Jaskier started.

“Settle, little songbird,” the mage sighed. She leaned close to him and pressed a gentle kiss to his temple. In the corner of her eye, she saw Geralt roll his. Jaskier’s eyes seemed to get wider. They got wider still when the scared hand of the Witcher took his callused hand.

“Whaaat is happening?” Jaskier asked, but he didn’t pull his hand away.

“Well, you did ask us to talk about what was going on, before a crazy bastard kidnapped you.” Yennefer shrugged, resuming her seat on his beat. “So, we did.”

“And, uh, what did you talk about?” Jaskier tilted his head, with a small frown.

“You,” Geralt grunted. Yennefer rolled her eyes.

“What our dear Witcher is trying to say, is that we talked about how we both love you.” There was another grunt from the Witcher. “And how we couldn’t ask you to choose. And now we know you feel the same way about us. After all, the potion only works if you deeply care for someone.” Yennefer shrugged. She found herself gently rubbing circles into Jaskier’s calf.

“You love me?” Jaskier’s voice was little more than a breath. “You both love me? But, why? You are both incredibly amazing people with more power than I could ever hope to imagine. Why would you want me?”

“Because you’re you Jask,” Geralt sighed.

“As I told the Witcher yesterday, you have more love in your little finger, than either of us has in our entire bodies. After all, what is power without someone to share it with?” Her eyes flicked to Geralt for a moment before resting on Jaskier. The bard looked between the two of them.

“I swear to all that is holy, if this is some kind of dream or hallucination, I will kill both of you,” Jaskier muttered. Yen chuckled.

“We’d let you,” Geralt said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and I hope y'all enjoyed it.  
> If you did, drop me a comment or some kudos.   
> I know I'm bad at responding to comments, but y'all absolutely are the only things keeping me sane during this quarantine. Y'all are amazing!
> 
> If you have a prompt for another fic, just shoot me a message. I'm on Tumblr too, same name


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